Page 89 of Billion Dollar Dispute

“I promise. If you want updates, call or text, and I’ll show you what I’m doing.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she says, a small smile playing on her lips.

“If it makes you feel better, do it,” I reply, understanding how hard it is for her.

She takes a small step back, but her feet seem rooted to the spot, her shoulders tense as if she's fighting against herself. Her gaze drops for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the strap of her bag, unwilling to let go, to let me take control.

“Okay, thanks.” Her voice falters slightly, but she forces herself to turn, her movements stiff. As she walks away, each step is more reluctant than the last.

“Let me know how he is,” I say, genuinely wanting an update.

I can feel the air around us shift. I watch her closely. Her breaths quicken into a pant, her lips parting slightly as if she’s about to say something but doesn’t. The electricity in this room is at an all-time high, and I can’t hold back. Workplace or not, I take the kiss I’ve been desperate for. I lean in and press a quick kiss to her soft lips, and when she kisses me back, it’s everything I could’ve wanted.

Fuck, I’ve missed her.

What is she doing to me?

We pull apart, and she walks away. I stand there, unable to move, my heart racing. At the door, she pauses and takes a quick glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine. I flash her a grin, and her pretty cheeks flush a deep crimson color.

I sit in her chair and get started, reading the files a welcome distraction, looking at the words but not reading, unable to focus. This is the only way I’ll be able to stop myself from following her.

I’ve been at her desk working for four hours, but I’m unable to concentrate. I check my phone again, unlocking it with a quick swipe, only to see the same empty screen. No new messages with an update. I click on our message thread, hoping a new one might appear. But nothing does. I google what to give kids when they are sick with the flu, then I call my driver and get him to stop by the stores with a list, from medicine to food. Just as I’m about to have him deliver it along with my card, I change my mind.

I need to see her.

Me:Is everything okay?

Jemima:Sorry, I completely left you high and dry.

Me:Yeah, I was about to come down and see if you’re alive.

Jemima:We’re very much alive. (She sends a picture of them watching The Lion King.)

Me:I send a picture of her front door.

A moment later, the door swings open. She runs a hand through her messy bun and asks breathily, “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you and Chad stuff to help him get better,” I say, holding up the bags.

Frowning, her eyes drop to the bags. “You know I’ve got this handled.”

My lip’s part into a knowing grin. “Oh, I know.”

“Harvey?” Chad's weak voice calls from inside.

My eyes dart past her shoulders. She sighs.

“I can’t get rid of you now,” she murmurs with a hint of amusement in her tone.

“At least someone wants me around,” I say, giving her a wink as I enter their apartment. I don’t plan to stay long. I just wanted to check on Chad.

The space isn’t big, and it only takes a few steps to see him lying on the sofa, watchingThe Lion King. As soon as he spots me, he tries to sit up.

“Stay there.” I smile.

Chad nods with half a smile, his cheeks red with fever. He resettles, laying his head back down.

“I got you some things, but I need to get Mom’s approval first,” I say, winking. His eyes widen a fraction.

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